


Killer Dames

by sultrysweet



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 1940s, Crime, F/F, Mob Wives, Romance, Sea Devil Week, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 00:25:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4543134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrysweet/pseuds/sultrysweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cruella's married to a man she can't stand, but after one night at a frequented club she meets Ursula and things change for the better. She's definitely not bored anymore. Sea Devil Week Day 5: Mob Wives</p>
            </blockquote>





	Killer Dames

**Author's Note:**

> Depictions of violence, but it's not graphic or gruesome. It's pretty mild. Brief mentions of hetero sex, but it's very vague and very quick. I tried to get this in on time and failed. Sorry! There's one more Sea Devil Week fic I'll be finishing and posting this week, but I'm not sure how soon it'll be ready.

The gin was strong and the bartender kept them coming. Cruella was as close to heaven as she could be with her husband by her side. He talked a big game and laughed loud among his colleagues. Colleagues was a laughable word. They were all dirty lying thieves. It didn’t bother her. She loved the life it provided her. She just didn’t like how they lived it. If she hadn’t needed his connections, she wouldn’t have married the bastard, but as it stood she wouldn’t earn any respect if she didn’t have a way in.

She talked to the men her husband kept company with, but when she did talk to them she made it clear she was witty and cunning. She swiped their wallets and returned them within only minutes just to prove to them she could, but she also flirted in a way that wasn’t worrisome to her husband and didn’t mislead those she flirted with. It was all fun and games to them, but they still complimented her skills when she accomplished such small tricks during their weekly poker game.

As she sat in the booth at the only club in town they frequented, she was bored. She glared over the rim of her glass and looked around at the ring of men that surrounded her. They were all idiots and she couldn’t even have fun with them. Poker night was one thing, but she never played where business was conducted and the club was where all business was handled. It was public so none of the lesser thugs could try anything and it was a way to let loose in between jobs. She lowered her gaze to the contents of her glass as she tipped it back and guzzled down almost a third of what she had left. Soon, it’d be time for a refill.

When her husband cracked a lame joke and she wanted to roll her eyes, she fought off the urge by trying to drown out his raucous laughter with the music. At first, the sounds she heard from the stage didn’t sway or distract her. There was a break between lyrics and all she heard were the instruments. It wasn’t bad, but it failed to perk up her ears so that she didn’t have to hear the man beside her anymore. Just when she thought she was going to have to participate in all the laughter, especially since everyone at their table had joined in at that point, a few notes trickled out of the singer’s mouth and into the club. It started in piano, one of the softest sounds ever achieved in music, and then reached a crescendo. In forte, the singer quickly captivated her and Cruella’s eyes widened as she focused her gaze on the woman in front of the microphone. The rest of the room blurred and all she saw was a beautiful, dark skinned woman with honey blonde curls and plump lips. The woman looked incredible. She was the most incredible thing Cruella had ever laid eyes on in all her life.

The singer wore a shimmering purple dress and high, black heels that accentuated her calve and thigh muscles. The dress stopped a few inches above the knee and gave Cruella a damn good view of those smooth and slightly toned thighs. The other woman might not have exercised on a regular basis, but she sure did put some work into that fantastic body of hers.

Slowly, Cruella lowered her gin until she set it down on the table with one generous gulp still left in the glass. She never set down her gin until she was finished with it, but that night was full of firsts and it started with her abandoned booze. She leaned forward and stared at the woman for a long while, unsure of whether or not anyone around her had even noticed where her attention was. She didn’t care if they ever figured it out. She couldn’t look anywhere else other than the stage, her eyes fixated solely on the singer with the strong and melodic voice.

Halfway through the song, there was a brief moment when the woman’s eyes scanned over the room and met her gaze. Cruella’s breath hitched. The woman was gorgeous just swaying behind the microphone and singing with her heart and soul, but Cruella quickly realized that her eyes were more stunning than her curves. Her gaze had purpose and could either make you wither to your knees or weep. It was clear to Cruella that it didn’t matter how she looked at someone. Lust, envy, love, hate, scrutiny, or to size a person up. It didn’t matter because the woman’s eyes were always sharp with whatever emotion she felt. Anyone could easily fall victim to those dark eyes and Cruella knew she already had.

For the remainder of the song, the woman sang to her. Their eyes never wandered. They stayed in constant contact. Cruella, for the first time in a long time, felt something. She felt a connection and she felt noticed. Feinberg never noticed anything except for the amount of his money she spent on clothes. He wanted her to look good, but he didn’t appreciate what it cost him. That was all he cared about; money and how good his wife looked so _he_ looked good. It was all about wealth and image.

The final note of the song faded out as the number came to an end and the other woman looked away to give the rest of the audience some attention. She smiled at them and excused herself and the band for a short break between sets. The woman stepped away from the microphone before she slipped backstage.

“Ella, dear,” Feinberg called out to her. Without the woman on stage, it was unfortunately much easier to hear him again.

Cruella turned to her husband and pretended to care about whatever it was he wanted to say. She blinked a few times and widened her eyes like a doe that had been spotted in someone’s backyard.

“Will you get the barkeep to serve us another round,” he asked and then looked down at her unfinished drink.

She flashed him a polite smile, but her eyes were cold like steel as she said, “Of course.” She grabbed her glass and tipped back the rest of her gin as she made her way over to the bar.

At the bar, she snapped her fingers several times as she struggled to capture the man’s attention. She huffed and glared at the man when he continued to serve everyone but her. Feinberg had a name in that town and people might have known she was associated with him, but even a pretty face and mob connections couldn’t get a woman any respect. She was like a fly on the wall to every male in society and the only women that paid her any mind were either threatened by her or her competition.

“You’ll never get a drink like that,” a familiar voice said from beside her.

She turned and saw the woman, the singer, standing next to her with a hand on the top of the bar and her other hand on her cocked hip. The woman smirked at her, a look that was more flirtatious than warm and friendly. She wasn’t _un_ friendly either, but no one had ever approached her that way. She was intrigued.

“Oh? And how _would_ I get a drink…dahling?”

The woman quietly chuckled and leaned forward over the bar before she called out to the barkeep, “Hey, Joe! We got a problem?”

The man turned and saw her. He shook his head and laughed before he relaxed his expression and narrowed his eyes at her. After a couple of seconds, he made his way over to her.

“We might. Yelling at me like that you'd think you were asking for trouble,” Joe replied. “What do you want?”

“Whiskey sour for me. And get this woman whatever she wants.”

“Urs, I’ve got paying customers—”

“Am I not a paying customer,” Cruella asked with a raised brow. “Or shall I have Feinberg's men burn this place to the ground?”

Cruella looked over her shoulder at the men she and her husband had with them.

“You know Feinberg,” the barkeep asked.

“Know him?” Cruella laughed. “I’m his wife. Get him and our company another round and I’ll take another gin.”

The barkeep cleared his throat and nodded before he shuffled off to make the drinks.

“You’re a mob wife,” the woman asked out of genuine curiosity.

“I am. Is that a problem, dahling?”

The woman’s previous smirk transformed into a wide grin and her voice dropped an octave when she gave her response. “Not at all. I’m Ursula.” The woman extended her open hand and Cruella glanced down at it with a small smirk before she shook it.

“Cruella,” she introduced herself.

“Cruella Feinberg,” Ursula said and nodded as she considered the name.

She threw back her head and laughed deep from her gut. “Not a chance, dahling. I’m not an entirely kept woman.”

Ursula furrowed her brow and tilted her head to the side.

When she got herself under control, she explained a little more. “Cruella De Vil. I still have my maiden name.”

“Is that the only way you aren’t 'kept'?” Ursula slid in a little closer and twirled straight blonde hair around her finger.

Cruella throatily chuckled and bit her lower lip for a second before she looked over at the booth where her husband and the others sat. They were all too busy talking shop if the serious expressions on their faces were anything to go by. She grinned and looked at Ursula again.

“I suppose it’s not the only way. He likes to think he owns me, but I’m not a material possession like the clothes and jewelry I buy with his money.”

“So you’ll do what you want?”

“With who I want,” Cruella added and confirmed for Ursula that the flirting and subsequent desire weren’t one-sided and could be acted on.

The barkeep came back with her gin and said, “The boys are getting their drinks now. I’m sorry I left you waiting.”

“All's forgiven,” Cruella told him and casually waved a hand at him to show e was dismissed and no longer needed. The barkeep nodded and moved on to other customers.

“Forget the gin,” Ursula said and pushed the full glass away from them. “Come with me.”

Ursula held out her hand again, that time with her palm up, and Cruella took it. She slid off the bar stool and their joined hands dropped between them at their sides as they made their way to the exit.

Cruella didn’t spare her husband another glance or thought. Instead, she focused on the present and left the club with a beautiful woman she inwardly promised herself and Ursula that she would tastefully enjoy.

It didn’t take them more than a minute to flag down a cab, but nightlife traffic wasn’t in their favor because the car ride took far too long. Ursula placed a hand on Cruella’s knee and rubbed it slowly within the first few minutes of a torturously long cab ride to Ursula’s place.

When Ursula’s teasing touch and the constant start and stop of the cab through city streets became unbearable, Cruella slipped a hand over the woman’s upper thigh. Her fingers dipped between Ursula’s legs before she pushed them up and under the hem of her dress.

Ursula gasped and tightly gripped the base of her seat belt as she straightened up in the backseat and opened her legs just a little bit to give Cruella better access.

The cab driver peered into the rearview mirror and Cruella refrained from doing anything more than pressing her knuckles against the other woman’s panties. She met the driver's eyes in the mirror and glared at him.

“I suggest you keep your eyes on the road if you want to avoid an accident. And I’m not just talking about a _car_ accident,” Cruella warned.

The driver looked away from the mirror and watched the road as suggested.

Even though she was pleased that they no longer had his attention, Cruella still didn’t do anything more than tease Ursula while they were in the cab. She didn’t want an audience and she certainly didn’t want to hear or see the cab driver judge them for being two females finding a certain kind of companionship with each other. It just wasn’t done—at least not publicly—in the forties.

Finally, the cab pulled up to a curb and stopped. They had reached their destination and both women couldn’t have been happier.

Cruella paid the driver with some of her shopping allowance for the week and held the door open for Ursula as they stepped onto the sidewalk. As the cab drove away, they almost sprinted for the front door and Ursula fumbled her keys in her rush to unlock the door. The quicker they got inside, the quicker they got to do what was obviously something both of them desperately wanted to do.

Thankfully, Ursula managed to open the door and as soon as both of them were inside she tossed the keys onto the end table nearby and pinned Cruella against the door. In an instant, they were kissing. It was aggressive and passionate. It was more than lips and tongue. Teeth gnashed and nibbled and hands roamed.

In only a matter of seconds, there were moans. Cruella knew she couldn’t contain herself and it seemed Ursula couldn’t either. She smiled into the next kiss and wrapped her arms the other woman’s waist. She pulled the woman close and held her there with a firm and determined grip.

Ursula pushed the heels of her palms up the front of Cruella’s thighs before she curled her fingers into the waistband and tugged down her pants.

Cruella growled and brought a hand up to the back of Ursula’s neck. She threaded her fingers in long, loosely curled hair and deepened the kiss before she wrapped a leg around Ursula’s hip.

Ursula picked up on what Cruella wanted and quickly lifted her. She slammed the blonde against the door and Cruella wrapped her other leg around Ursula’s waist.

Cruella pulled back and finally came up for air. Once her mouth was free, she asked, “Shall we take this to the bedroom, dahling?”

Ursula grinned and spun them around, away from the door, before she walked them further into the house. The woman was remarkably strong. Cruella was only about a hundred pounds soaking wet so it was easy enough to carry her, but Ursula was a singer. As far as Cruella knew she didn’t work out and it wasn’t just a step or two into the bedroom. It was across the house from the front door. Maybe Ursula did it often; took women back to her home and screwed them senseless. How else would it explain her ability to sweep Cruella off her feet and carry her all the way to the bed?

Ursula dropped her onto her back on top of plush sheets and unzipped her dress as she grinned down at the blonde.

“Well, that’s no fun. Why don’t you let me do that,” Cruella asked and tilted her head to the side, rested her cheek against her right shoulder while she propped herself up on her elbows.

“It’s faster this way,” Ursula said. “And I never need any help. With anything.”

“Is that why you lured me here? For me _not_ to help you with…” her eyes took in Ursula’s body from her neck down to her legs, “anything?”

“Technically,” Ursula said as she slowly started to peel off her dress, “I don’t need help with that. It’s just more enjoyable to have a partner.”

Cruella throatily chuckled. “Then hurry along, dahling. I want to play.”

The dress pooled at her feet and Ursula stepped out of it just before she crawled onto the bed and slid up Cruella’s body. Cruella laid down, flat on her back, as Ursula aligned their bodies and smirked up at the other woman.

Ursula leaned down and Cruella tipped back her head a split second before their lips met in a slow but heated kiss. As soon as their tongues darted out and dueled for dominance, Cruella moaned low and loud.

Ursula moaned in response and ran a hand up Cruella’s front before she cupped and squeezed the blonde's breast.

Cruella teasingly bit Ursula’s lower lip when she felt the singer’s fingers graze her nipple through her shirt. She reached behind the other woman and unclasped her bra before she pulled Ursula’s bra straps down her arms.

Ursula pulled away and allowed her bra to fall onto Cruella’s upper torso before she picked it up and threw it somewhere in the room. Neither of them cared where it landed, least of all Cruella. The blonde stared, unashamed of her ogling, at Ursula’s bared breasts.

“You’re gorgeous,” Cruella purred her compliment.

Ursula pushed up Cruella’s shirt from her hips to her chest before she gave the blonde room to sit up. Cruella took the hint and pulled herself up as far as she could without colliding with the singer and lifted her arms. Ursula then removed her shirt and flung it over the side of the bed.

Cruella didn’t waste time and undid her own bra before she let it fall to floor by her discarded shirt. Both women were then exposed from the waist up and Ursula seemed just as pleased with Cruella’s body as much as Cruella was pleased with hers.

“Do this often, dahling? Pick a girl out of the audience and seduce them into bed with you?”

“I don’t usually see someone I like at the club. You’re the first I've taken home with me.”

“Then I’ll make sure this night is unforgettable. That way I’ll be the _only_ one you take home.” Cruella placed a hand just above Ursula’s chest and slid it up to coil around the back of her neck. She pulled the singer down and crashed their lips together in a fiery kiss.

Ursula almost became animalistic after that. She hurriedly undid and removed Cruella’s pants and maneuvered a thigh between the blonde's legs. She rolled her hips forward and her sex slid up Cruella’s thigh from her knee almost to her hip.

Cruella gasped and grabbed Ursula’s hips. She dipped her fingers below the waistband of her underwear and raked them down Ursula’s round ass. She gave a slightly rough squeeze to both of the singer's cheeks and guided Ursula back up her thigh again. She reveled in the feeling of damp panties rubbed against the top of her thigh. It was a thousand times more satisfying than Feinberg just sticking it in and rushing through to his own climax and neglecting her needs. The man was utterly useless and not just in the bedroom.

Ursula was different, however. She had never slept with someone after only learning their name minutes prior to their roll in the sheets. But because Ursula was different, Cruella was compelled to just let go and live in the moment. She wanted to have a little fun and she hadn’t gotten off in weeks. She needed that night and she needed it with Ursula, because she was sure that she wouldn’t find anyone like the singer in any lifetime.

She yanked Ursula's underwear down to the woman’s knees and Ursula lifted off the bed and pulled them completely off. They pooled at her feet before she then stepped out of them like she had done with her dress. Cruella stared at Ursula’s fully bared body and she stared hard. She licked her red lips and then raised a hand before she curled a single finger in a come-hither motion.

Ursula complied and slithered up the blonde's body. As soon as their breasts brushed, Cruella moved a hand between their bodies and stroked a finger through the other woman’s slick folds. She watched Ursula moan and throw her head back as a blissful expression passed over her face.

Cruella leaned forward and flicked her tongue over one of Ursula’s nipples as she teased the singer’s opening with two fingers.

Ursula bit her bottom lip and groaned as she moved her hips in an attempt to slide down onto Cruella’s fingers. Cruella moved away so her touch remained teasing and served to work the woman up further. She wanted the night to be unforgettable, which meant it needed to last longer than a few minutes. Multiple orgasms were always an option, one she intended to explore, but she didn’t want the first one to happen too quickly.

“Now, now, dahling,” Cruella said. “Amazing pleasure comes with time. Quick and dirty isn’t my style. Well… _quick_ isn’t my style. I don’t mind dirty.”

“Then show me, doll,” Ursula said with a husky voice.

Cruella grinned and her fingers moved up to Ursula’s clit. She brushed over the bundle of nerves in less than a second and then moved her fingers around it in a wide circle, careful not to hit the spot that gave the woman any real satisfaction.

Ursula let out a few breathy sounds in an almost rapid succession before she started to even the playing field. She arched her back upward and curled herself inward until she made circles around one of Cruella’s nipples with her tongue. She tried again and again to move her hips just the right way so that Cruella’s fingers might slip and press against just the right spot, but her attempts were futile. As much teasing as Ursula did, Cruella was in control. She set the pace and she had an advantage because her hand fit between their bodies. Ursula didn’t have the same opportunity when she wanted so badly for Cruella to put her out of her misery and finally get to it.

“You want the torture to be over,” Cruella asked after a moment when she recognized the look on Ursula’s face. “Why not beg a little for a mob wife’s benefit?”

“I don’t beg,” Ursula said, a little breathless from her movements and the ramped up sexual tension from lack of pleasurable pressure or release.

“Such a shame, really,” Cruella said with a smirk. “I quite like it. And if I have what I like, you can get what you need.”

“I. Don’t. Beg,” Ursula insisted and started to rock against Cruella’s thigh to the best of her ability. She pulled up, her mouth nowhere near Cruella’s breasts anymore. She was determined to tease the woman by giving her absolutely nothing. No friction, no tongue, no lips or grabby hands. After a short time, it seemed to work. A little.

Cruella finally gave in and pressed her fingertip directly over Ursula’s clit. Ursula bucked her hips forward, further into Cruella’s hand, and although she hadn’t used her words it still counted as begging. Cruella leaned in and kissed her again before she dropped her head to Ursula’s breasts and sucked a hardened nipple into her mouth.

Ursula moaned, but it quickly turned into a grunt when the touch wasn’t enough. It had come at the right time, but she still needed more. She didn’t beg. She really didn’t, but she wondered if that compromise would be worth it. Normally it wasn’t, because it meant showing weakness, but she already knew who Cruella was and it didn’t seem to be any kind of power play. They both wanted the same thing and getting her to beg seemed like fun, harmless entertainment to Cruella. It had nothing to do with dominance or business or dominance _in_ business. It was simply about the give and receive they participated in that night.

Cruella watched the woman as she continued to move above her, even with her lips wrapped around her nipple. She brought a hand up to Ursula’s neglected nipple and gave it a squeeze and then a little twist. Ursula groaned and the sound morphed into a needy whimper.

The singer decided she wouldn’t beg. She didn’t need to. Not when she saw the hungry and wildly satisfied look in Cruella’s eyes every time she made a sound in response to what the blonde did to her. Instead, she grinned and swatted Cruella’s hand away before she brought her own hand to her sex and started to rub fingers over her clit. She teased herself in front of Cruella and the blonde liked it just as much as she hated it. Ursula understood the struggle and she also understood why Cruella didn’t like the sight of a woman pleasuring herself. Cruella wanted to have that effect on Ursula. Cruella wanted her hands and mouth to set off whatever woman she took to bed. Ursula wouldn’t beg. She turned the tables.

“I see you like to play dirty as well, don’t you, dahling?” Cruella smirked again and then grabbed Ursula’s hips for the second time that night. She used Ursula’s urgency to have an orgasm to her advantage and flipped them over so she was on top. Ursula never saw it coming and couldn’t even stop it from happening since her fingers flicked and swirled over her hardening and sensitive clit.

Cruella straddled one of Ursula’s thighs and slipped her fingers between the other woman’s fingers over her sex. She flicked her wrist in a way that pushed Ursula’s fingers aside and then successfully started to do what she would never allow Ursula to achieve without her help if they were going to be together.

“You’ll owe me an orgasm for this and not my own. _You’ll_ just have to come one more time than I expected. I hope you can handle that, dahling, because I’m a bit ruthless.” She didn’t wait long before she plunged two fingers into the woman and it took even less time to make her sing.

Ursula’s voice was heaven when she was on stage, but Cruella had to admit they were nothing compared to the sounds and sweet, sweet notes composed by the woman when she climbed higher and higher toward her release. Her walls tightened around Cruella’s fingers and Cruella took great pleasure in watching the woman as she tensed up for a moment and then finally tumbled down in ecstasy. Every last breathy or throaty moan, groan, and whimper made up the most beautiful symphony Cruella had ever heard. She waited only a short while as Ursula opened her eyes and panted through the aftershocks of her first orgasm, but as soon as Cruella thought she was in perfect condition for round two she leaned in and kissed Ursula’s neck.

She kissed, licked, sucked, and bit everywhere she discovered Ursula enjoyed to be touched in such a way. She determined how well Ursula liked it both by the sounds the woman made and the way she squirmed beneath Cruella. Everything about that night and that woman was intoxicating and Ursula had yet to reciprocate, but she did as soon as the singer came down after her fourth orgasm.

Cruella was flipped onto her back yet again and Ursula apparently wanted to exact revenge for all the previous teasing if the way she kissed up and down the blonde’s body was any indication of that. She was reduced to moans and sighs as she arched her body over and over again to feel more of the woman. She knew exactly what Ursula was doing. The other woman wanted to make her beg the way Cruella couldn’t get the singer to do. She and Ursula were much the same that way because Cruella never begged either, especially since she married into the mob. It wouldn’t do to be seen in such a state. Desperate and aching and eventually giving in, giving up all control to someone. She never even gave her _husband_ control over her. Every time he wanted sex, he didn’t always get it. She made Feinberg think he decided when and what they did, but Cruella always knew how to convince him an idea was his when in reality, it had come from her. She still never had an orgasm when she was with him, but at least he didn’t dictate when and what they did when he achieved his.

When Ursula’s mouth moved dangerously close to her sex again, Cruella didn’t waste an opportunity. She put a hand on the top of Ursula’s head and not too gently pushed the woman into place with plump lips almost close enough to touch her clit.

“Give me a reason to remember you, dahling,” Cruella breathlessly said and kept her hand where it was while her fingers tangled themselves into honey blonde curls.

“I’m sure me picking you up at the club made this evening memorable for you already,” Ursula argued. “But I’ll definitely take pleasure in hearing you scream my name. That way I know you’ll never forget it.”

Those were the last words out of Ursula’s mouth before she put it to even better use on Cruella’s body. Once Cruella started to push her hips further toward Ursula’s hot mouth and skilled tongue, the singer swiftly entered her with three fingers. She curled them slightly every time she started to pull out and then thrust them back in with just the right amount of force.

It wasn’t tender and compassionate love making, but it wasn’t frantic and rough fucking either. It was sex. No bullshit, good and sweaty sex. There was a connection felt between them both in bed and at the club, but it wasn’t as emotional as two people so madly in love. It was steamy and intense and both were convinced they’d have to seek each other out again just to have a repeat performance, but it certainly wasn’t sweet and it wasn’t slow.

It was perfect the way it was and Cruella knew without a doubt she wouldn’t find anything even nearly as beautiful as that again with Feinberg or anyone else. And she was fine with that.

When both women were thoroughly sated and the night was through, Cruella collected her things and called a cab. As she waited for it to arrive, Ursula grinned at her and stood against the door frame in a silk robe left untied so that a good portion of her remained on display. Cruella drank it in like she drank her gin. She appreciated it and then wanted more.

“I’m usually at the club Thursday through Saturday every week. My sets start a little after seven. On the nights you come alone, or on nights you know you can get away but I won’t be singing, you should give me a call,” Ursula said as she grabbed a pen and paper and started to write something down. When she finished, she handed the paper over to Cruella. On it was her phone number.

“I can assure you we’ll be in touch,” Cruella said with a wide and devilish grin.

* * *

 

Over the next few months, they had indeed kept in touch. At first, it was all about satisfying each other’s needs. They went at it like rabbits every chance they had and with Feinberg always too busy to notice or care about Cruella and Ursula’s own husband seemingly out of the picture, their chances were often. Five weeks into their lust-filled romance, they spent less time waiting until after Ursula finished a set before they disappeared somewhere and instead met up before either of them usually went to the club for business.

Ursula’s husband was always away even though he stayed in town, but Feinberg was always at the house. He rarely left to attend to business because he hardly needed to when his goons were only a phone call away from getting the job done for him. He was a slouch in bed and in business and it endlessly infuriated Cruella, so much so that after a few glasses of gin she said as much to Ursula.

“Screw him,” Ursula said and raised her own glass, a whiskey sour as usual. “He’s no good!”

“Don’t I know it,” Cruella agreed and tipped back her gin. She grinned as she lowered her glass. “But _you_ are. You’re _very_ good.”

They’d been drinking for a couple of hours and the truth was pouring out of Cruella. She usually did much better with her liquor, but talking was easy with Ursula after all the time they had spent together. Ursula seemed just as willing to share about her life as well because she gulped down half of what remained in her glass before she spoke up.

“My husband pays _too_ much attention to me. He always wants to know what I’m doing, where I’m going, who I’ve been with. He’s always so damn suspicious.”

“Can’t say I blame him when you’re here with me, dahling,” Cruella purred. Her blue eyes were dark with desire and predatorily glimmered as they locked with Ursula’s.

Ursula smirked and a second later leaned in. She kissed Cruella and let it linger. They were in no rush so she kept her lips connected to Cruella’s for as long as possible.

“Do you think he knows about your affair,” Cruella asked when they parted. “Do you think he has any idea about me?”

“As far as I know he doesn’t.”

“I can’t imagine what he’d do if he found out.”

“Can you imagine what _your_ husband would do it he found out,” Ursula chuckled.

Cruella laughed and shook her head. “He’d probably order someone with actual _balls_ to kill you _and_ me. Or maybe just you. He might try to make some kind of spectacle out of his wife.”

After another week, Cruella came over for dinner. That weekend they decided they didn’t need to hide out in a house and publicly had drinks together at the club. On Saturday night, everything changed.

Feinberg was at the club with several of his men and Ursula was on stage for a few hours before she took her first break for the night. She went up to the bar where Cruella sat and had watched her perform with rapt attention. She ordered her usual while Cruella continued to nurse her gin.

“Hello, beautiful,” Ursula greeted with a smile.

“Dahling,” Cruella replied with a dazzling smile of her own. “You were spectacular.”

“Thank you.”

For several minutes, they drank and listened to the chatter and clanking of glasses around the club. They didn’t need words after all the time they spent together. Instead, they spoke with their eyes as they shared flirtatious looks and smiled at each other. A moment later, Cruella was bold enough to put a hand on Ursula’s thigh. It was the same moment Feinberg finally decided to pay her some attention.

He clenched his fists on top of his thighs and gritted his teeth as he glared at the pair. Not only was his wife touching another woman the way she should only touch him, her _husband_ , but a black woman at that. Cruella was a disgrace. She would surely embarrass him and his family and bring shame to the Feinberg name if she continued the way she was at the bar. He needed to put an end to it. Her behavior was unacceptable and he’d never hear the end of it, from _anyone_ , if he didn’t handle the situation.

Feinberg looked to his right hand man and leaned in close so only he could hear. “I want you to kill that dame with my wife, ya hear? You take her out back, make her suffer a little, and then put one right between her eyes.”

The other man looked over at the bar and saw Cruella with the singer. He furrowed his brow and tried to understand why he’d been ordered to kill the woman in the blonde’s company. His eyes went from their faces to where Cruella’s hand reached over and touched the woman’s thigh. It was odd, but it wasn’t enough reason in his mind to order a hit. But then he watched Cruella slide her hand up higher and dip between the singer’s thighs. It was an intimate gesture and come to think of it, he’d heard rumors about the singer. A few months ago was the first time she hadn’t returned after her first break of the night. A week after that she sang a few songs and went home early. She never took that kind of time off. She never went anywhere in the middle of her shift. She had done it frequently in recent months and Cruella hadn’t been to the club much since then either. That was when it all added up. Feinberg suspected they were more than friends from just one look. Either that or he worried they would be if they were left to their own devices for much longer.

Feinberg’s right hand man looked at his boss again and nodded. He knew the job he had to do and he knew to wait for when the two women slipped outside to do whatever it was they seemed intent on doing. He didn’t have to wait long for that moment.

Ursula leaned in and whispered in Cruella’s ear, “Let’s take this somewhere a little more private.” She pulled away and stood up, but Cruella stood up a second later and took Ursula by the hand.

The blonde led the way backstage and out the door to the back alley. When the door shut behind them and they were alone, Cruella didn’t hesitate to pin Ursula up against the wall. She crashed their lips together and immediately started to run her tongue along Ursula’s bottom lip in an attempt to gain entrance to her mouth. After only two swipes, she was successful.

Cruella placed a hand above Ursula’s hip and slowly slid it up her side until her thumb rested just under the other woman’s breast. She broke the kiss for a second to breathe and then hummed as she moved in and pressed their lips together again.

Suddenly, the door beside them swung open with a rusty squeak and they pulled apart. Their heads whipped to the side to take in who had joined them and Cruella recognized the man immediately.

“Cruella,” the man greeted in a less than pleased tone. He was stiff and all-business. “I’d step away from her if I were you.”

“And why is that,” she asked and came to stand between Ursula and her husband’s top goon.

“Wouldn’t want you to get blood on your stylish and _expensive_ outfit,” he answered as he pulled on black leather gloves.

Cruella wickedly grinned and her eyes showed malicious intent. “I don’t suppose we can avoid this whole thing, can we?”

“Afraid not. You know the rules. The order came straight from Feinberg.”

“But he couldn’t be bothered to man up and take care of his problem himself, could he,” Cruella rhetorically asked and then scoffed. She shook her head and added, “He truly is pathetic.”

“He doesn’t need to take care of it himself. He has me and about a dozen others willing to do what needs to be done.”

“He was _born_ into the mob,” Cruella started to explain. “His name carries a lot of weight around here, but not his reputation. He has one, but people know he sends others to do his dirty work. He’s never once fired a gun. He doesn’t tie up loose ends himself and makes someone else clean up his messes.”

“Because he has the right.”

“But he didn’t earn it,” Cruella argued. “ _You’ve_ earned it. How many men have you killed? In his name no less?”

The man didn’t answer. He just pulled out his gun and clicked off the safety.

“He might know when to have things handled, but what kind of man, what kind of _leader_ , doesn’t prove himself before he asks his own men to follow his command,” Cruella continued.

“Look, Ella—”

“My name isn’t Ella,” she insisted with a sigh and slight roll of her eyes. “That’s what he calls me because he thinks my full first name is hideous.”

“Look, the point is, I understand that you’re sweet on this doll, but I’ve got a job to do,” the man said.

“No use in arguing then? I can’t convince you to walk away?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t walk away. I get it done.”

“Suit yourself,” she said and pulled a gun out of her fur coat. She had it pointed at him in no time at all and fired. She shot him once in the chest and he collapsed to the ground with a shocked look on his face while blood flowed out of the bullet wound.

She lowered her gun as he fell and when his body made impact with the cement, she slipped the gun back into her coat. She waited a few seconds as she stared down at the lifeless man, watched him bleed out as he took his last few breaths, before she turned back to Ursula. “If my husband wants you dead, he’ll have to go through me. He can send as many lackies as he wants. I’ll kill them all and then I’ll kill him.”

“You’re not just a mob wife, are you,” Ursula asked. She seemed calm. She looked from the body back to Cruella and didn’t show a hint of fear.

“No, I’m not,” Cruella said. “I’ve probably done worse things than my husband and he’s supposed to rule this city.”

Ursula grinned. “How long do you think it’ll take him to notice his man is dead?”

“Not long if we go back in there. A few minutes if we leave now. What do you say, dahling?”

“Are you suggesting we run?”

“Not at all,” Cruella said. “ _I_ don’t run either. I’m just not in the mood to deal with another goon or my husband. I’m in the mood to have you.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” someone said from behind her, another man. She didn’t recognize him, but by the look in Ursula’s eyes the other woman did.

Cruella turned around again and when she did, she came face to face with Feinberg’s ex-right hand. He was a real man. He did what he was supposed to do and he did it better than Feinberg expected every time. He went the extra mile and almost seemed to take pleasure in each of his kills. Feinberg cut him loose after he’d questioned her husband’s authority and even challenged him on occasion. The man felt the same way about Feinberg as Cruella did. It was then he climbed the rankings in the rival mob, Feinberg’s direct competition and sworn enemy.

“Louis,” Cruella politely smiled. “It’s nice to see you again. What brings you here?”

“My wife,” he said and looked over her shoulder at Ursula.

Cruella looked back at Ursula with a raised brow and asked, “You’re not just a singer, are you?”

Ursula flashed the briefest of smiles Cruella had ever seen from her. Ursula wanted to laugh, but it wasn’t the time. Cruella knew Louis and what he was capable of so she understood that as well. She faced him again and said, “Well, your _wife_ isn’t happy. Not with you.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t? Funny thing…I think it does. Business is business, but you can’t expect to keep your wife if you can’t keep her happy.”

“I can keep her because she’s mine. That’s all there is to it. She’s mine like you’re Feinberg’s. Now, he’s not much of anything so it makes sense he can’t control you. But I run a much tighter operation.”

“Oh, so you’d put an end to this much faster than Feinberg?”

“Yes, I _will_.”

“Well, that’s the man that replaced you,” she pointed to the body on the ground between them, “right there. My husband doesn’t notice anything about me or what I do, but he figured this out faster than you did.”

“Or did he,” Louis asked and smirked as he clasped his hands in front of himself. “I thought if I let this run its course, I would gain the upper hand. Ursula’s very irresistible so I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away. I figured the longer you two stayed together, the better chances I’d have at Feinberg’s business. I was right.”

Cruella furrowed her brow and looked between the two of them before she asked Ursula, “Did you know about this?”

“No,” Ursula barely managed to answer before Louis cut her off.

“Of course she didn’t. She’s in love with you,” he said with a cocky smile. “She wouldn’t dare hurt someone she loves. I, on the other hand, have no problem doing that.”

Louis reached for his gun, but Cruella drew hers just as quickly as she had the first time. Ursula stepped in close behind her and wrapped her hand around Cruella’s on the gun. Ursula squeezed Cruella’s finger and together they pulled the trigger just as Louis raised his weapon. The bullet caught him in the stomach. It didn’t kill him. He stumbled back and hissed, but was only momentarily thrown off his objective. He looked up at the two of them and held his gun as steadily as he could before he shot at them.

Ursula had been quicker and pushed them out of the way. They fell to the ground, the gun clattered on the cement as Cruella let go upon impact and Ursula landed on top of the blonde.

Louis staggered as he turned to face them, made sure his feet and shoulders were squared with his targets before he shot. Ursula had thankfully kept her hand close to Cruella’s and grabbed the gun almost as soon as it left Cruella’s possession. Just as Louis turned to them, Ursula rolled onto her side and aimed for his head. She pulled the trigger and shot him in the head, but he shot back just as quickly. She rolled back toward Cruella to cover her and the bullet shot through side from behind. She growled into Cruella’s hair as she felt the burning pain where the bullet had landed. Even the adrenaline couldn’t keep her blissfully unaware of the fact that she’d been shot.

Louis’ body landed with a thump behind them and Cruella rolled onto her back beneath Ursula.

“Are you alright, dahling,” she asked with notable concern.

“I think I’ll be fine,” Ursula answered through gritted teeth. “But I’m sure I’ll need a doctor. Soon.”

“As long as word doesn’t get back to his men that Louis is dead, we can take you to your regular fix-it man. Did you take that bullet for me?”

“I think it was meant for me, but only because I’m with you. So technically, yes. You think if it comes down to it you’ll do the same for me?”

“Dahling, I shot a man for trying to kill you. I think I’ve made my point.”

Ursula chuckled and slowly tried to get up. She struggled a little, but once Cruella was able to stand up she helped the other woman onto her feet.

“Let’s get out of here before both our sides’ doctor’s turn on us.”

“They won’t,” Ursula fought through the pain to say. “Not if we take over one of them. Louis doesn’t own my ‘side’ of the mob so his death means nothing to us. But Feinberg…”

“Ah, yes, the coward he is. First, we’ll take care of you. Then, we’ll deal with my useless husband.”

Cruella helped the woman into the car she came in and drove to the mob doctor the rival mob trusted and used. Ursula made sure to stay conscious and coherent enough to give the blonde directions and within twenty minutes, Ursula was seated in front of the doctor as he removed the bullet and stitched her up.

The doctor was a nice guy. He hadn’t wanted to get tangled up in the mob in the first place, but they’d pressured him with a few things before he finally caved in and served their medical needs. It was because Ursula knew that piece of information that she wanted to warn him.

“Hey, Doc. You might…want to lay low for a little while,” she said between grunts and hisses as he continued to stitch up her wound.

“Why is that,” he asked. “Are you in trouble?”

Ursula chuckled and confessed, “Maybe a little.” She looked at Cruella and the blonde seemed to pick up on what the other woman wanted to say.

“Your help might be needed a little too frequently in the very near future. You’ll be in high demand and I’m not sure your bosses will understand when you can’t save all the men that come in here,” Cruella informed him.

“What’s going on,” he asked the two of them.

“A war,” Ursula answered.

“You should be careful,” Cruella warned with a small smirk. “Things are about to get messy.”

There were weeks of bloodshed after that. Ursula was patched up and the word about her and Cruella, along with the dead bodies they left in their wake, were common knowledge to everyone it concerned.

Feinberg was pissed, but he was also a wreck. Everyone knew it had been Cruella that had killed his man and everyone knew that Ursula had both assisted her and then finished off the job herself with Louis. They’d stashed away a doctor whose loyalty swayed toward them after the women had apparently gone to see him. It should have made the rival mob easier to wipe out without their doctor, but that wasn’t the case. A lot of men died before finally, Cruella and Ursula killed the rival mob’s leader. There was no relative or heir to the family business that could take over and word on the street was that Ursula and Cruella weren’t done killing.

Feinberg had a target on his back and he’d already lost his most valued men to Cruella’s slaughter. Bodies dropped like flies around him and it only got worse from there. Cruella wanted to taunt him. After all the murders, she reached out to the men he had left and set up a meeting between them. She wanted to make him squirm and he knew it. Unfortunately, he believed if they talked that maybe he could spare the men he had left, especially since they had started to question his leadership.

Feinberg met with them, but he was a coward until the day he died. He hadn’t died that day, but only because Cruella wanted to keep him on his toes. She wanted him to second guess his every move, to always wonder, “Is today the day I finally lose my life and my business?” When that day finally came, he broke one of the mob’s biggest rules: Never beg, never show weakness.

He bawled like a baby on his knees and Cruella grinned before she took immense pleasure in executing him. The pleasure was best compared to the relief and satisfaction that came with an orgasm.

“Delightful,” Cruella quietly purred and Ursula swooped in behind her before she wrapped an arm around the blonde’s thin waist.

Ursula looked over Cruella’s shoulder at Feinberg’s dead body where it lie face first on the ground at the other woman’s feet and then kissed Cruella’s neck. She sucked below the blonde’s ear and smiled, her eyes closed and her expression peaceful. She only looked so comfortable whenever she was with Cruella, blood and fallen bodies an added bonus to their natural high.

“Let’s burn the city down and build it back up again. Make it our empire, hmm,” Cruella asked as she tilted her head and gave Ursula more skin to taste.

Ursula chuckled against Cruella’s pulse point and the sound sent vibrations down the blonde’s neck. “I thought we already did.”

Cruella turned to face Ursula, her gun still smoking hot at her side with her hand still gripped around it. She cupped the other woman’s face and lovingly gazed at her with a slightly evil gleam in her blue eyes. “Then let’s give them hell.”


End file.
